It stood open and I went heedlessly forth.

From overhead I heard Giuliana calling me in a voice that held a note of despair.

But I never checked in my headlong career.
Fifanti's mule, I have since reflected, was tethered near the steps.

I saw the beast, but it conveyed no meaning to my mind, which I think was numbed.

I sped past it and on, through the gate, round the road by the Po, under the walls of the city, and so away into the open country.
Without cap, without doublet, without shoes, just in my trunks and shirt and hose, as I was, I ran, heading by instinct for home as heads the animal that has been overtaken by danger whilst abroad.